


glaring gold

by achanceofreign



Category: Bleach
Genre: Animal Traits, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Grimmjow just wants to enjoy a wank in peace, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Knotting, References to Knotting, aizen mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26980384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achanceofreign/pseuds/achanceofreign
Summary: He remembered the first time they met, how his lips creased in a manic curve, sharp teeth gleaming in the living realm’s moonlight. Grimmjow’s azure blue trained keenly on furious shining amber—an oath of righteous vengeance sworn in sun-bright gold irises. How his ears caught the quiet squeeze of nimble fingers around the fabric wrapped hilt of that ridiculously huge black zanpakutou.A gift for Not a 🍓
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques & Kurosaki Ichigo, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60





	glaring gold

When had it started? 

He remembered the first time they met, how his lips creased in a manic curve, sharp teeth gleaming in the living realm’s moonlight. Grimmjow’s azure blue trained keenly on furious shining amber—an oath of righteous vengeance sworn in sun-bright gold irises. How his ears caught the quiet squeeze of nimble fingers around the fabric wrapped hilt of that ridiculously huge black zanpakutou.

Suede soft jet colored fingers reached for the bulge between his legs, leaking pink crowning from a sheathe of furred black and white.

His breath caught thinking of those eyes, angry, fierce—perfect—and he wondered what expression the Shinigami brat would make, pressed against a wall, pushed down to his knees, made to take him to the hilt until lips pressed to coarse sky blue hair.

He’d have to be careful—if he got too excited, his cock would balloon inside Kurosaki’s soft, wet, warm mouth, too big to push out. The tip of his cock would push mercilessly down throat, rutting into the tightly enclosed space. He could just imagine the struggling, hands pressed against the muscled jut of his hips as a choking gurgle escaped him, flame-touched brows furrowed—indignant. 

Did Shinigami even _need_ to breathe? 

Perhaps the Shinigami would scrape his teeth against him, and ha, his hierro would prevent it from doing any real damage, but the pressure would be so _good_.

Grimmjaw had his cock firmly grasped in his spit-slicked fist. The stark white room echoed with his low panted breaths, straining length twitching as he tightened his grip, working himself over in a frenzied rhythm, remembering how black bloomed in the whites of glaring gold eyes.

 _You’ll regret this,_ they swore.

It was enough to pull a chuckle from his throat,

 _Don’t think I will_ , he’d smirk in reply, head thrown back, body shuddering, clawed fingers gliding into that riot of orange spikes to grip hard and hold the Shinigami against him, nonsense syllables hissed out like a curse. He imagined how red the brat's face would be, how his eyes might grow wide as Grimmjow came, the mess that would dribble over bite-swollen lips and down his chin.   
  
His body was stretched bonelessly across his bed, tingling aftershocks rippling over him from his ears, all the way down to the tips of his clawed toes, and black dipped tail. 

A mess of cooling milky fluids was splashed over his hand, across the sheets. He stretched, reveling in the satisfying warmth of release that settled into his limbs.

Grimmjow frowned as he felt a sick sensation, warmth dripping unpleasantly down into the curve of his hollow hole, 

“Shit,” he swore, grabbing up a clean corner of sheet to wipe the mess away.

His furred ears pricked at a sharp knock at his door, and he scrambled to wipe himself off,

“I’m _fucking busy_!!” he snarled, pissed his fleeting high was already ebbing away.

“Master Aizen called a meeting,” he heard one of the faceless exequias say. 

“I’ll be there,” he frowned, throwing his limbs over the side of the bed before making a beeline for the shower, tail and furred features receding.

Grimmjow made sure the water was cold, mental image of golden eyes fading.

He’d see that shinigami brat again.

Grimmjow wanted to see what other expressions he could make. 

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and salutations, my fellow heathens. This is my first published fic on ao3. I'm thinking of writing some other stuff, and may still edit/add to this one. Concrit is encouraged. Thanks so much for reading.


End file.
